Thunder Dome At my high school, it felt more to me

Eros knew only of two dangers in life: death and his mother. The many, many causes of death could not be thought up within his mind, and so the fact that the woman could have easily ended his life right then and there hadn’t registered. In fact, not much of anything had registered within his head since he’d gotten lost, the cold and anxiety of being harmed having kept him from thinking straight. So as a nose drifted over his head, the touch gentle and comforting, he’d not thought twice before leaning into it—craving it, even. It was something he had wanted for so long, and at last he’d received it. The fact that the positive attention given to him had come from a total stranger had not bothered him in the slightest, because, even in that short amount of time, she’d become loved more so than the woman whose womb he’d grown in.

The words made him look up at her, but he’d said nothing in return. He’d simply shaken his head, clearly not yet ready to discuss the details surrounding his great escape. And, once she’d laid down, he’d pushed himself closer to her. Once again, the potential danger of the situation was either ignored or not considered as Eros chose to curl up against Vixen’s chest. He was cold, still, and wanted as much warmth as she could give him. Somewhere in all of his movements, he’d managed to pause and mutter, “Lost,” but had not kept still for any longer than it’d taken to speak. Driving his muzzle into the fur covering her chest, he desired nothing else other than to weasel his way beneath her and become the snuggest little pup in the history of pups everywhere.